image of his daughter
seemed to approach. The brawling ceased; the room was lighted up. It
was his own chamber, and Katherine sprang towards him, smiling as she
was wont, for her usual "Good-night." "God bless thee, my child!" said
he, as he threw his arms about her. Starting up, awake, at the sound
of his own voice, he found that he had not grasped a shadow; but a
being, real and substantial, was in his embrace. Grimes was horribly
alarmed.

"Father, it is I," said a soft whisper. It was the voice of his
daughter.

"Hush!" said she; "be silent, for your life and mine. You shall know
all; but not now. Fear not for me. I'm safe; but I will not leave
_him_--my companion--yonder unfortunate captive. Help me, and I'll
contrive his rescue."

"_Thy_ companion, wench! why, how is this? Art"----

"Honest and true, as he is faithful. We may yet be happy as we once
were, when this fearful extremity is past. Say no more; we may be
overheard. Now aid me; for without our help he is lost! and, oh,
refuse not this one, perhaps this last request of thy child!"

She fell upon his neck, and the old man was moved to an unwonted
expression of tenderness; for truly his daughter was dearer to him
than any earthly object; and still dearer in the moment when the lost
one was restored.

"To-morrow night," said the maiden, "bring your boat, with four stout
rowers, to the quay at Preston Marsh. Let me see; ay, the moon is near
two days old, and the tide will serve from nine till midnight. You
know the channel well, and wait there until I come."

"Kattern, thou shall go with me. I'll not leave thee now."

"Nay," said the faithful girl; "I must not; I _will_ not. There is
life depending on my endeavours. Father," continued she, throwing her
arms round the old man's neck, who now sobbed aloud, "hear me; no
power shall force me to leave him now in misery and misfortune. I
would move the very stones for his rescue; and cannot I move thee?"

"Well, Kattern, I am a silly and a weak old body, and thou--But thou
art disguised. Where didst get that coat? and--I declare--trousers.
For shame, wench!"

"Nay, you shall know all, father, when I return; when we have
delivered him, and not before."

The old man was too much overjoyed not to promise the requisite
attendance.

"My life depends on 't, father; so good-night."

"Stay--stay, wench--a moment!"

But a light step, and the sound of a gently-closing door, announced
her departure; and Gr